


Pyrrhic Victory

by last_illusions (injured_eternity)



Category: CSI: NY
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-05-12
Updated: 2006-05-12
Packaged: 2017-10-17 09:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/175383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/injured_eternity/pseuds/last_illusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, even when you have done all you could, the losses still leave the victory seeming insignificant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pyrrhic Victory

**Author's Note:**

> Pyrrhic victory, sometimes incorrectly called pyrrhic defeat, is a term in which the victory is paired with a loss so great that the entire situation is tantamount to defeat.
> 
> Spoilers: 2x23 ["Heroes"]

“You’ve gotta get this guy, Mac,” she’d told him, leaning forward in the chair in front of his desk and looking him straight in the eye, her own begging him to keep the case in perspective.

“I will,” he’d answered her with a nod.

And he had. A promise kept. A killer behind bars. A life lost. But he had to ask himself—was it worth it? She’d left, and firing her… that had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do. Her record had been spotless, and she’d been well on the way to a promotion, all until he’d had to put that black mark next to her name and cross her from the lists. Yes, he’d had to protect the integrity of the lab, as he’d told her, but that didn’t mean that he’d enjoyed the ramifications of doing it. Her first offense, and he’d been forced to ensure that it was her last; no matter how clean the record, no matter how much potential she’d held as a detective, there was no excuse for her actions, and her one choice would have left the lab’s credibility in question.

But her mistake had not been fit to pay with her life. _Nothing_ should have been, but the hard truth of it was that she’d lost. She’d lost her battle with Pratt, lost her chance to live like she’d wanted, and it hurt to think that, at least in part, he’d had a hand in that loss.

She’d been working toward her Private Investigator’s license, Stella had said. As far as Mac was concerned, she’d have been an asset to the profession. But she had headed down that path for one reason and one reason only: to destroy Pratt. Yes, she’d have done well, working cases as they came up and putting her signature dedication to it, but her mind would have been on Pratt until he was no longer a danger to her, the lab, or anyone else that he could have possibly had access to.

When Pratt’s attorney had come by to say that he was filing a complaint for preliminary, unnecessary harassment by “one of his detectives,” Mac had assumed that Pratt was simply looking for attention, trying to warn the lab after the Lillian Stanwick case investigation had drawn his name up out of the database again and led Stella and Lindsay back to track him. Never had he considered that Pratt didn’t know that Aiden was no longer an NYPD detective, that he himself wouldn’t have realized that she was therefore in danger, that she was conducting her private investigation and that Pratt _wasn’t_ simply pulling fragments of fiction out of thin air.

And now, holding her badge in his hands, he wished so badly that he had. _A life lost_ , he told himself again, and all because he hadn’t seen what was right in front of him. He was a detective, a CSI, First Grade. He should have been able to tell. He was trained to see all sides of the fact. He should have been able to know.

“Mac?” Stella appeared in the doorway, pulling him out of his dark musing.

He looked up at her, taking in her haggard appearance; her eyes were red, and the shadows beneath them begged for sleep, for reprieve from this hellish nightmare. They’d all been pushed to the limit, working case over case and fighting for every shred of evidence they’d been able to find to convict the murderous, scheming bastard that was responsible for laying Aiden in the ground. Now that that was done, the reality of it all was slamming into each of them like a sledgehammer on freefall.

“Hey, Stella,” he answered quietly, reading the pain in her eyes. “How’re you holding up?”

“I could ask you the same,” she offered, just as quietly. “You okay?”

He couldn’t look her in the eye and answer yes. So he turned his gaze to his hands and Aiden’s badge and answered yes instead.

“Liar,” she accused him, her gaze following his, and he shrugged. “That’s her badge… right?” she added after a moment.

“Yeah.” Biting back a sigh, he nodded. “I was going to have it buried with her.”

His partner was silent for a long minute, and then she stepped all the way around his desk to stand directly in front of him. Laying one hand over his and covering Aiden’s badge, she touched his chin with the other, making him look at her.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she told him.

For long minutes, he didn’t answer her, and she was about to reiterate her statement when he did speak, his voice so soft that she had to strain to hear him.

“Yes… Yes it was, Stel… I didn’t catch it… didn’t see it in time to stop him, to warn her. I should have…”

“We can all play that game, Mac,” came her gentle reminder. “We can all sit here and think of what we ‘should have’ done, but no matter what we come up with, it’s not going to change what happened. How were you supposed to know that she was still tracking him? You haven’t really had a chance to talk to her since she left; how is it that you’re expected to still know her, to be able to read her next move and protect her from the sick psychopaths that are out there?”

“She was one of us, Stella; maybe she had to leave, but that doesn’t change that I still didn’t see what was happening when that bastard’s attorney came down here.”

“You expect yourself to read minds now, too? His attorney probably didn’t even know that Aiden wasn’t working here anymore.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that because I didn’t catch it in time to warn her, she ended up dead. I failed her; I promised her I’d catch him, and I couldn’t do it in time.”

“You did catch him. You’re the reason that he can’t hurt someone else.”

“And Aiden had to die for it.”

“And Aiden learned enough from you to have the presence of mind to leave the evidence to solve her case as she was killed.”

“She had that perseverance to start with. I had no hand in it.”

“She worked under you for more than five years, Mac. If she didn’t learn something from your integrity, where on earth would she have found it?

“We’ll miss her, Mac, without a doubt; she was good detective, would have made a wonderful PI, and was a great friend, but the fact that she is now part of the past is not your fault.” Her eyes bore into his earnestly, begging him silently to believe her, to believe _himself_. ”We’re not going to forget her, and you can bet that Pratt sure as hell won’t, either. He thought he’d get away with killing the woman who was trying to destroy him, but instead she’s the reason he was caught. Her death brought some good with it, Mac—in the end, we won.”

“But what is the win when we’ve lost so much?”

“I don’t know, Mac… I wish I did, but I don’t. Losing her was a huge blow… but whether I believe we’ve won or lost in the end doesn’t make any difference. You have to decide for yourself. But don’t blame yourself for the things that are out of your control. There’s only so much we’re allowed to do, and our job calls us to bring justice where we can.

“We did her death justice, Mac: we caught the one she was chasing, the bastard who burned all he could of her to make her suffer. We did what we could, and so did she. You aren’t expected to play God; you do what you can, and that’s all anyone can ask for.”

“Did I do all I could, Stella?” he almost whispered. “Did I pull every string to pull him in before he could hurt her?”

“You did,” she answered simply. “Getting yourself fired or arrested for breaking too many limitations wouldn’t have helped any.”

Slowly, Mac turned Aiden’s badge over in his hands before bringing his gaze back up to his partner’s. The badge was laid on his desk, and he stood slowly, reaching almost hesitantly for Stella to pull her into his embrace.

“Thank you,” he whispered softly in her ear, leaning his head on her shoulder.

“Don’t thank me,” she whispered back, surprised at his gesture but wrapping her arms tightly around him nonetheless. “Thank yourself.”

  
 _Finis._

 _Feedback is always appreciated._


End file.
